Hiroshi Kunita, Part 3
Fukushima questions our way of life

Hiroshi Kunita (left) listens to a farmer talk at a fruit farm in the city of Date in Fukushima Prefecture. Mr. Kunita窶冱 organization, Peace Winds Japan, is selling such fruit to aid the farmers of the affected areas. (Photographed on April 27, 2011)

Hiroshi Kunita

Born in Saijo City in Ehime Prefecture in 1968. After graduating from Kyoto University, he was a reporter at the Asahi Shimbun for 10 years, working in Kyushu and Tokyo. His coverage of NGOs prompted him to join Peace Winds Japan in 2003. While assuming responsibility for planning the group窶冱 activities in Japan, he has been involved in relief efforts for the Niigata Chuetsu Earthquake in 2004, a major earthquake in Pakistan in 2005, and the Northern Sumatra Earthquake in 2009. When Peace Winds Japan opened a branch office in the city of Onomichi in 2007, he was appointed director. He lives in Saijo City, Ehime Prefecture.

The trees along the streets are bright with holiday lights and lively Christmas music is heard in the air. Strolling through town in the delightful atmosphere of December fills us with good cheer. This year, however, Japan experienced a major accident at a nuclear power plant in the eastern part of the country. We can't help but now ponder the energy conditions that lie behind the accident and the way of life we have come to lead.

My wife's parents' home is located in the evacuation zone in Fukushima Prefecture, where the accident occurred. In October, my wife, wearing protective clothing, was permitted to visit the house for a short time. She told me the evacuation zone was an eerie place, like a ghost town. Rice fields and vegetable fields had become overgrown with tall yellow goldenrod and ostriches were walking around the deserted streets. She brought back only clothes and some photos from the mess in the house, caused by the earthquake.

I heard about the local people窶冱 deep distress from my mother-in-law. For example, one of her friends was devastated by comments directed at her by a stranger in an evacuation center, who said: "It's your fault! You were blinded by money when you gave your approval to the nuclear power plant! Go back home!" My mother-in-law herself felt shocked by something a victim suffering the same plight told her: "It will be our loss if we aren't given compensation so we can enjoy our lives." It pained me to realize that the accident at the nuclear plant--no, the very existence of the plant itself--has gotten the local people entangled in money.

Why was the nation unable to prevent such a terrible disaster? With my experience reporting on a nuclear plant in Kyushu, I can't shirk my own responsibility, either. Although I had felt that the use of nuclear technology is counter to nature's way, because I never expected that such an accident would really occur, I, too, ended up accepting the "safety myth" of nuclear energy.

Like me, a lot of people have been reflecting on their way of life, and society's consumption of so much energy, since the accident occurred. I'm afraid, though, that today窶冱 enthusiasm for ending our reliance on nuclear energy and seeking sources of natural energy will fade one day and the government and the power companies are waiting in the wings to promote their "safety myth" again. If nothing changes, we'll be ignoring our responsibility when it comes to spreading radioactive materials out in the world.

Japan's economic growth, supported by nuclear power, has given us a life of great convenience. This was the choice of an earlier era. But here in the Hiroshima area, as in other parts of Japan, we can see that people are disappearing from farming villages and mountainous regions. The traditional culture and ties between people that have been safeguarded and handed down with longstanding effort are now fading, along with the beautiful rural landscape.

In order to hand down to the next generation an environment in which we can live safely and feel rich in spirit, I believe it's time to now modify the flaws of the "nuclear power era" and choose new values. I think the experience of Fukushima, quietly but forcefully, is putting that question before us.